


Goodnight Sburb (All Go Down Together)

by a_mere_trifle



Series: Goodnight Sburb [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Character Study, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-09 04:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_mere_trifle/pseuds/a_mere_trifle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Alternate Universe) Elizabeth Roxanna Lalonde and her friends have made it into the game-- but is winning even a possibility?</p>
<p>[Chapter 3] <i>She'd been their leader, she was supposed to be the one who knew everything, and it hadn't worked, it hadn't been enough, she hadn't done it right, she hadn't known enough, hadn't tried hard enough, and then the pop quiz had come in the form of rocks from fucking space.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Penultimate)

**Author's Note:**

> I have dawdled waaaay the fuck too long on this, due to various spans of writer's block and also new jobs. But no longer. Let's make this happen.

\--

Desperation and despair made for a potent mix.

She still didn't know what any of the music pounding in her ears was; she didn't think it was in English, but she wasn't used to listening to this sort of music, it all sounded like noise to her. All she heard was the beat, steady and driving, a relentless heartbeat to replace, to supersede her own. Strider had delivered. Who the fuck would have thought he was so goddamn reliable?

She laughed breathlessly; as if it were a bad thing. It was probably the only thing that had gotten them this far. Why did that feel like a bad thing?

The message window was still flashing. She kept ignoring it.

_So tell me_ , she said instead. She knew it would hear her, whether or not her phone was dead, whether or not the voice recognition was working. She knew better, now. _Were you even telling the truth at all?_

**I always tell the truth,** it answered.

_I mean, is it even going to work, you fucker._

**Such language for a young lady. Of course it will work.**

She looked ahead of her; there was still no sign of her destination, still just the inky blackness of her sunless sky.

**Besides,** it said. **It's the only game in town.**

Strider's window kept flashing at her; she ignored it. She knew damn well she was making a mistake. She just couldn't see any other way through.

\--


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ubiquitousUrbanite: I am not letting you loose unprepared on level two of this thing.  
> ubiquitousUrbanite: I don't care how shiny the gate is.  
> gourmetUtopian: BUT IT IS VERY SHINY  
> gourmetUtopian: LIZ YOU ARE NOT BEING FAIR AT ALL!

\--

ultimateGrandmaster: jesus christ lalonde calm your proverbial tits

She fucking hated that turn of phrase, ironic or not. She'd waged guerrilla campaigns of gossip for far less, really-- but as wars went, she had enough on her plate already.

She bet the little fucker knew it, too.

ultimateGrandmaster: im doing fine  
ultimateGrandmaster: jake is taking care of me  
ultimateGrandmaster: if you know what i mean

Elizabeth breathed out, annoyed, moving her wrist in vague, ridiculous motions somewhere by her hip. This "Strife Specibus" nonsense was far more goddamned trouble than it was worth, in her opinion. She supposed it was useful for Jane, who had upgraded to a cast-iron frying pan; there weren't exactly holsters for that sort of equipment. Jane found summoning her weapon out of the nether child's play as well-- "i don't know, i just grab for it and it's there!" she'd said. Excellent for her, but useless to shorten Elizabeth's recurring, persistent, harrowing ten seconds of groping around like a fool.

Then she had it, the suddenness of which also never failed to throw her off; she aimed carefully, knowing how little she could afford 5-10 seconds of groping if her first shot failed. _Don't fire until you see the whites of their eyes..._

She followed the aphorism to the letter, lunging at the small creature, digging her cheap pens deep into its eyes.

Fucking _pens_. She closed her eyes tight, her grip firm against the creature's death-squeals. Why the hell hadn't her mother had a collection of something more sensible, like assault rifles?

A silly and unfair idea. How the fuck was her mother to know her daughter's life would be turned into an alternate-reality game?

...Where was her mother, right now?

She couldn't think of that; she focused on landing elegantly, as the creature burst into grist. Fucking _penkind_. She prayed to any decent god alive that someone would get an actual weapon to her eventually.

She kicked at the grist; it disappeared, in a supremely unsatisfying fashion, the instant her foot made contact. Fuck this game.

ubiquitousUrbanite: On a first-name basis now, are we?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Surely you wouldn't be wasting your precious time with seducing innocents.  
ultimateGrandmaster: never a waste of time  
ubiquitousUrbanite: The raised-by-British-wolves thing is your proverbial bag?  
ultimateGrandmaster: man everything's my fucking bag have you seen my site  
ultimateGrandmaster: i am the captain jack harkness of shitty suburban high school  
ubiquitousUrbanite: The Captain Who?  
ultimateGrandmaster: ...  
ultimateGrandmaster: is that a reference or a genuine question  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I haven't the slightest clue what you might mean.

Like she had time for teasing; but fuck it, this was worth it. She glanced at Jane's screen; ah, enough grist for another level. She was worried, though.

gourmetUtopian: come on, how much more grinding can i even do??  
gourmetUtopian: i have cleaned out half the house just for all this building!!  
gourmetUtopian: there aren't going to be any of the blighters left!!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You're talking too much to Harley.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Or is it Jake, now~?  
gourmetUtopian: what you didn't know his name?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...I'm the only one who didn't know his name?  
gourmetUtopian: oh no i'm sorry i mean jake! i thought he would be a jake.  
gourmetUtopian: or a john! or a fabio or  
gourmetUtopian: reginald!

She paused a moment, to consider this information. Harley was apparently on the line to everybody but her. And Jake to everybody but her. Of course, she hardly needed another distraction at this point, but still...

ultimateGrandmaster: does the phrase anything that moves ring any bells in your pop-culture-deprived head  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Only animate objects?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: How narrow-minded, puppet boy.  
ultimateGrandmaster: the puppets kind of move but yeah you've got me there

She didn't particularly want to think about that. Luckily, the one thing she was not short of was distractions.

gourmetUtopian: anyway what i MEAN is do i really have to genocide every single monster on the planet??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'd feel rather better about it.  
gourmetUtopian: elizabeth roxanna hitler lalonde what are you trying to do to me?  
gourmetUtopian: that much grinding will bore me to death!!  
gourmetUtopian: to say nothing of the senseless murder!!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I am not letting you loose unprepared on level two of this thing.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I don't care how shiny the gate is.  
gourmetUtopian: BUT IT IS VERY SHINY  
gourmetUtopian: LIZ YOU ARE NOT BEING FAIR AT ALL!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'm building the next level, all right?  
gourmetUtopian: siiiiigh  
gourmetUtopian: okay, but we are going to have to renegotiate this kill-all-the-monsters thing!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: 99%?  
gourmetUtopian: AARGH

She didn't really want to negotiate. She was afraid she might have to, because she was not going to trap Jane in her own house. She didn't want to. She wanted Jane to grind levels or whatever this game's equivalent was until she could kill them just by looking at them funny; and then, and only then, to perhaps venture further out into the world. She did not trust this game to have a smooth difficulty curve. She was coldly certain that it had no option to retry a level.

ultimateGrandmaster: but you were talking like you had some particular topic in mind and i'm running low on time to dick around  
ultimateGrandmaster: so preach it sister  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You know, I believe I did.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: It was about the kernelsprites.  
ultimateGrandmaster: glowy red thing?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Indeed.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Jane has been talking to hers, and I believe an experiment needs to be made.  
ultimateGrandmaster: hooray for fucking science, cause we got all the time for rigor right now  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You should try to put something into it that is capable of speech.  
ultimateGrandmaster: why now  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Perhaps even intelligence. Jane's reported conversations are quite frustrating.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Because we haven't tried doing so before the meteor hits yet.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: It's too late for Jane, I have nothing that mine will accept, but the experiment needs to be made.  
ultimateGrandmaster: oh my god you want to run fucking scientific trials right now  
ultimateGrandmaster: like we have the time? like anyones gonna give a fuck  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Do you have anything that might  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Oh, fuck.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Not the puppets.  
ultimateGrandmaster: no  
ultimateGrandmaster: not the puppets  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Hmm?

It was odd; he was taking a while to answer, and today, that could not fail to make the hair rise on her arms, prickling at the back of her neck. A sudden shift, of tempo, of perspective, and she hated sudden, she hated shifts today.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider?  
ultimateGrandmaster: sorry  
ultimateGrandmaster: just trying to figure out  
ultimateGrandmaster: if this is the best idea ive ever had  
ultimateGrandmaster: or the most motherfuckin' creepy  
ubiquitousUrbanite: To be frank, I am amazed you perceive a distinction.  
ultimateGrandmaster: good point  
ultimateGrandmaster: nyway if it doesnt work i can just toss a plush perversion in right  
ultimateGrandmaster: its not gonna actually work right  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Well, yes, but why isn't that the primary plan?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider?  
ultimateGrandmaster: brb lady  
ultimateGrandmaster: family reunion

She stared at the words, like she would stare at a word problem, a puzzle, any normal conversation to be perfectly honest, waiting, willing for them to quietly fall into place. The strangest thing was, it had always worked before.

Suddenly, it began to again.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider, what the fuck?!

He didn't answer; he probably wouldn't for a while. He was busy. If his plan worked-- whatever she could guess of his plan-- he might be even busier.

And who the hell could be in three places at once?

She couldn't. She took a deep breath, checked on Jane's progress, and focused on being in two.

\--


	3. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What"? Strider was resurrecting his dead brother as a glowing game fairy, and this kid said _what_?

\--

ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Striiiiiiider.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You could build me a goddamn skyscraper with this grist junk.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Helloooo?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: like wtf r u doing omg  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Did it go that fucking badly?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider!

She opened another bag of cheap pens, tossing them in the air, just to watch as her specibus absorbed them. Perhaps fancier pens would deal greater damage, in some illogical fashion. Perhaps the alchemy system could power them up, as well. She was getting better at pulling the damned things out of nowhere, but all this killing was making her feel like a serial killer, slimy and queasy. Did she really not have a choice, or was that just what she was telling herself to make it easier?

Strider wasn't answering. Jane was dutifully clearing out one last floor of monsters before fluttering like a goddamned moth to her ever-shiny gate. That left her one obvious option.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Harley.  
garruolusGamesman: oh hello!  
garrulousGamesman: how is your adventure going??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'm not entirely sure 'adventure' is the word I would use to describe it, but I at least remain alive.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Can the same be said for Strider?  
garrulousGamesman: oh, yes!!  
garrulousGamesman: hes been a trifle busy, i'm sorry if he has been neglecting you.  
garrulousGamesman: youre mostly settled for the moment right??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: As it were.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Was it his prototyping that was such a distraction?

She glanced at her own sprite, flickering pink in the corner of her room. It was still an unadorned enigma of a spirograph. Search as she might, she hadn't been able to think of anything at all to attempt to put into it. Her halfhearted attempt at chucking a cellphone in had failed. Just as well; battery power was going to be a concern. Maybe generators...

garrulousGamesman: yes theyve been having quite the reunion it looks like!!  
garrulousGamesman: i wasnt sure ashes would work but that is definitely his brother it is certain.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Jesus Christ...  
garrulousGamesman: what?

"What"? Strider was resurrecting his dead brother as a glowing game fairy, and this kid said _what_?

She rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. That had to be fucking creepy. Even if it didn't act like his brother-- no, especially if it acted like his brother--

ubiquitousUrbanite: Harley...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: What the fuck is wrong with you?   
ubiquitousUrbanite: Is there any way in which that cannot be fucking creepy?  
garrulousGamesman: why?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Why??  
garrulousGamesman: why?

There was something wrong with this kid.

Her head dropped down to her desk; she felt queasy, nerves and adrenaline and pink alcohol doing a number on her underage stomach. 

What the fuck was creepy about resurrecting your dead brother in a real-life video game? Fuck, maybe the kid was better off not knowing. It was going to happen anyway, and keep happening, all of it. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, not to realize how incredibly it was fucked up.

Like a child, she'd never been able to comprehend how eating the fruit of the knowledge of good and evil could possibly be a bad thing. To hell with a god who would condemn people to ignorance, she'd thought.

Maybe that had just been childish ignorance, too.

Or maybe this stupid game was fucking with her head.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Are they getting along all right?  
garrulousGamesman: they certainly seem to be!  
garrulousGamesman: i believe they were engaging in some ritual fist-bumping. devil if i know, i never had a brother!  
garrulousGamesman: he is now thoroughly preoccupied with an ooidal puzzler.

What the fuck did that mean. Oocyte. Eggs. Pomegranates and wineglasses and eggs. Beginnings. How motherfucking symbolic.

ubiquitousUrbanite: No problem, I hope?  
garrulousGamesman: when life throws you eggs, have a breakfast feast of omelet :B  
garrulousGamesman: i stuffed myself half to death with halfcooked egg once it was a hideous morning...

Wait, who the fuck used ":B" but Jane?

ubiquitousUrbanite: You've been talking with everyone today, haven't you.  
garrulousGamesman: well yes!  
garrulousGamesman: its an exciting day!!  
garrulousGamesman: strider needs me and jane's bound to complete our little cycle.

She regretted the outburst as soon as she'd typed it, but Harley, being Harley, didn't notice it at all. Well, it wasn't exactly a showy display of anger. No one could've been expected to read anger into it. But she'd felt it, as she typed, even as she knew it was something she didn't want to say, the first step on the path to something she didn't want to say.

_You've just been talking with EVERYONE but me, now, haven't you?_

She hadn't had a reason to be talking with him, though. She had hardly needed the distraction. What the hell did it matter? What the fuck was it but power-plays and petty jealousy.

How many friends of hers had died today because of power-plays and petty jealousy?

It was time to grow the fuck up and swallow it down, all of it, learn to deal.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Well, enjoy that, then.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I must be off.   
ubiquitousUrbanite: Tell Strider I need another story or two whenever he's got the time.  
garrulousGamesman: will do madam!!

She hesitated before closing the window; it seemed dangerous, somehow, to cut off a line of communication.

_Fuck it. I can call him again. He can call me._

She closed the window, with a savage satisfaction that did not make her feel the slightest bit less uneasy.

She'd get over it. There were monsters to kill.

_Do they look like monsters to you?_

As if it mattered.

The pens came easily to her hands as she stalked her next victim.

\--


	4. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ubiquitousUrbanite: How the fuck does HE know when you can upgrade your weapons?  
> gourmetUtopian: oh, i thought this was going to be you telling me not go go through the gate again!  
> ubiquitousUrbanite: Jane  
> ubiquitousUrbanite: Do you not think this is an important question Jane  
> gourmetUtopian: yipe okay!

\--

She was pretty sure she shouldn't be able to throw pens at a velocity high enough to penetrate these creatures-- especially these cheap pens, especially those dull carapaces-- but she'd tried it, and it was working better than it had any right to. It'd fucking figure, she thought, if this game really worked on Rule of Cool.

Of course, if it did, Strider ought to have this thing fucking covered.

She pushed her hair out of her eyes; she was swearing like a goddamn sailor. It felt like it ought to be helpful, somehow. She wasn't sure if it really was.

She was going to keep at it, anyway.

The last of the creatures on the floor burst into a shower of grist; she ignored it on her way to the outlet, because fuck yes she was keeping her batteries charged up. She was going to be careful, she was going to be exact, she was going to play this exactly right. If the first half-hour of the fucking game had those sorts of consequences for failure...

ubiquitousUrbanite: Fucking ladders, Strider?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Do you seriously have some sort of phobia of stairs?

He still wasn't answering, but at least he'd started building again, so he couldn't be dead. She considered asking Harley if he'd gotten into the game all right, then shook her head: it wasn't any of her concern. Her concern was her client.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Are you absolutely sure about this?  
gourmetUtopian: -_-

Jane was staring up at the gate, tapping at her laptop's keyboard-- touch-typist enough, apparently, because she seemed rather completely captivated to Elizabeth. She put unkind comparisons to moths out of her head and focused on the message screen.

gourmetUtopian: lizzie how much more genocide do you want??  
gourmetUtopian: betty says it will be fine. i will grind once i am there okay?  
gourmetUtopian: but if i stay in this house killing things for much longer i think i may lose my mind!  
gourmetUtopian: it will fly out of my head and do cartwheels lizzie!  
gourmetUtopian: loop-de-loops and barrel rolls and i heard somewhere a barrel roll isn't actually called a barrel roll but damned if i can remember what it is...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: But Betty will not be there.  
gourmetUtopian: not yet!  
gourmetUtopian: but i will be fine.  
gourmetUtopian: i am smacking the hell out of these things!  
gourmetUtopian: and jake says we can upgrade my pan soon.  
gourmetUtopian: with magic and things!  
gourmetUtopian: okay lizzie?

She sighed; upgraded weapons would certainly help, but she did not at all trust this game not to suddenly drop in the difficulty spike from--

\--Wait just a goddamn minute.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Wait.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Wait.  
gourmetUtopian: aaaaaugh!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Just how the fuck does HE know that?  
gourmetUtopian: what?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: How the fuck does HE know when you can upgrade your weapons?  
gourmetUtopian: oh, i thought this was going to be you telling me not go go through the gate again!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Jane  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Do you not think this is an important question Jane  
gourmetUtopian: yipe okay!  
gourmetUtopian: he says he dreamed it.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Dreamed it?  
gourmetUtopian: yes!  
gourmetUtopian: apparently the game started even before we put in the discs :/  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: What.  
gourmetUtopian: he says he's been dreaming of the game for years!  
gourmetUtopian: and we all have dream selves on a couple of special planets in the game?   
gourmetUtopian: but most of us are still asleep.  
gourmetUtopian: it's all kind of confusing to me, but he's been right so far!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...What.  
gourmetUtopian: that's really all i know!  
gourmetUtopian: you'd have to ask him about it, really, i've been really busy and distracted today!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I will.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I will have to ask him about it./

She glanced down, surprised at the typo; her hands were shaking, faintly but steadily, visibly.

_Don't let her know. She likes him. Don't rock her boat._

She thought of ice, and typed very slowly.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Anyway.  
gourmetUtopian: so i am going through the gate already now, okay??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I suppose there is no putting it off forever.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Be careful, and good luck.  
gourmetUtopian: okay, i will!  
gourmetUtopian: good luck to you too :B

She watched, biting her lip, as Jane performed a carefree flip into the softly glowing gate. 

Her least favorite part was how the screen kept whiting out, blanking, for full seconds, more than enough time to vividly picture the worst. It could be a gate to a world of acid, or one of giant pointy things, or one that was perfectly soft and peaceful and fluffy, but sixty stories down. Or the gate itself could kill you, what the fuck sort of energy were they made from, anyway--

And only with excruciating slowness would the screen finally resolve, slowly darkening outlines that she scoured for any hint of injury or blood. For a few more agonizing seconds she still would not be _sure_ ; but then the shades of grey finally grew dark enough to be distinguishable, and there was Jane, looking around with remarkable curiosity at her rocky, rather barren, but thus far innocent surroundings.

And that was when Elizabeth would realize she hadn't quite been breathing, for a while. 

She stood up, drawing in deep breaths, pacing around her laptop. She shouldn't call him while she was angry. But this was pretty fucking important, and she didn't have all the time in the world.

Calmness. Right. She was perfectly capable of talking about this rationally. She'd been pranking and borderline-trolling with Jane for years, and never lost her head; she'd spun her school's entire fucking gossipsphere like a top, precisely controlled, no matter what was on the line. She could do this. 

ubiquitousUrbanite: Harley?  
garrulousGamesman: oh hullo there!  
garrulousGamesman: rich is doing just fine so you know.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...You're on a first-name basis with him, too, huh?

She didn't know why that made her angry. To her, to her whole fucking school, he'd insisted he preferred 'Strider'. She'd obliged him. She'd never called him "Richard" or ( _"I mean, Christ, lady, is there any way to shorten that name that doesn't suck?"_ ) "Rich", though at the moment she was certainly reconsidering "Dick".

What the fuck did it matter? What the fuck did any of it matter.

garrulousGamesman: oh, did i never introduce myself?  
garrulousGamesman: how deucedly ungentlemanly of me!!  
garrulousGamesman: the name is jake madam.  
garrulousGamesman: jake harley!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Yes.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I've heard.

Deep breaths. She took a few more.

garrulousGamesman: i am awfully sorry for the oversight :/  
ubiquitousUrbanite: That's fine  
garrulousGamesman: it really is completely unacceptable!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: it's perfectly fine  
garrulousGamesman: are you all right there madam??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Perfectly fine.

She stretched out her fingers. She shouldn't even ask. She should just let it lie.

garrulousGamesman: i am terribly sorry i havent been able to focus much on you.  
garrulousGamesman: i have had other game duties i'm afraid!  
garrulousGamesman: we are rather on opposite sides of the quadrilateral as it were.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Quadrilateral?  
garrulousGamesman: yes we are kind of linked in a client server circle!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: How did you get a copy of Sburb out there in...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: The middle of wherever the fuck it is that you are?  
garrulousGamesman: miracles?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...

_Miracles is not a motherfucking answer,_ she didn't type. It took a great deal of effort, though.

garrulousGamesman: those ellipses seem a little passive-aggressive madam :/  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Oh, you haven't begun to see passive-aggressive.

Fuck; that one had slipped out. She typed all the faster to contravene it.

ubiquitousUrbanite: What sort of miracles?  
garrulousGamesman: skaia has ways i suppose!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...  
garrulousGamesman: :/  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...What, Mr. Harley...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...in the living fuck...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...is "Skaia"?  
garrulousGamesman: that is kind of hard to explain!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Witness, Mr. Harley  
ubiquitousUrbanite: All of the fucks  
ubiquitousUrbanite: That I give  
ubiquitousUrbanite: About how difficult it is  
ubiquitousUrbanite: To motherfucking ~explain~.

Her hands were shaking. This was probably a terrible idea, but damned if she could stop now.

garrulousGamesman: er, well.  
garrulousGamesman: i am a little vague on the specifics!

_I'm a little vague on what the fuck is wrong with you._

garrulousGamesman: it is the goal of the game anyway.  
garrulousGamesman: this is a plot that has been going on for quite a while!  
garrulousGamesman: there are several worlds created as a part of the game.  
garrulousGamesman: there are the ones we are transported to when we start.  
garrulousGamesman: then there is the battlefield and skaias two moons.  
garrulousGamesman: our dream selves are on those moons!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Dream selves  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Battlefield  
garrulousGamesman: janet and i are on prospit but shes not really awake yet of all the rotten luck.  
garrulousGamesman: you and rich are on the one called derse!  
garrulousGamesman: its a long way so i havent been!  
garrulousGamesman: i hear some nasty rumours though. scurrilous i hope!  
garrulousGamesman: the battlefield, er...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Harley  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I don't really give a shit about that right now.  
garrulousGamesman: oh?  
garrulousGamesman: well all right.  
garrulousGamesman: what were you asking then?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I was asking...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: What have you known?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: And for how long? 

She was remembering, now, a few weeks ago, signing up for that goddamned motherfucking preorder-- and there he had been, there he had fucking been, _encouraging_ her, which had seemed odd at the time, sure, but everything about Harley was odd, wasn't it, and wouldn't it have been rude to bring it up?

garrulousGamesman: about the game?  
garrulousGamesman: well i was aware that we were destined to meet!  
garrulousGamesman: and to play this game.  
garrulousGamesman: since i was a boy i suppose? chronology was not my forte back then!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: And the meteors?  
garrulousGamesman: well yes...  
garrulousGamesman: they are part of a defense system that skaia has!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I don't give a shit about where they come from!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Did you know they were headed for our homes?!  
garrulousGamesman: see that is the point of the game!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Did you know that they were headed for the home of ANYONE who booted up this piece of shit?  
garrulousGamesman: i suppose i surmised?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: And you didn't think this was worth MENTIONING?!  
garrulousGamesman: well there is nothing it would have changed!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You still fucking MENTION   
ubiquitousUrbanite: "Oh hey, your house is going to get blown up by a meteor Saturday, might want to be careful!"  
ubiquitousUrbanite: YOU FUCKING BRING IT UP!  
garrulousGamesman: why are you getting in such a tizzy about this??  
garrulousGamesman: it is far too late now!  
garrulousGamesman: and you never believed me about anything.  
garrulousGamesman: why would you have started then??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: If you TOLD me jack shit  
ubiquitousUrbanite: instead of being all fucking MYSTERIOUS about all this bullshit  
ubiquitousUrbanite: if you said "look all this weird shit I proved to you I can do? this is why and this is how and this is what's happening Saturday"  
ubiquitousUrbanite: maybe I woudn't have said OF COURSE HARLEY I BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU SAY  
ubiquitousUrbanite: maybe i would've given you shit  
ubiquitousUrbanite: perhaps i might have DISBELIEVED you for a while  
ubiquitousUrbanite: but you were jane's friend and Strider's and mine and you had done plenty of weird shit in the past.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: So BECAUSE I thought you were my friend  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I would at LEAST have told my other friends  
ubiquitousUrbanite: that this game was an overhyped POS  
ubiquitousUrbanite: and maybe they wouldn't have believed me  
ubiquitousUrbanite: maybe i couldnt have stopped mel maybe she would've dragged them in anyway  
ubiquitousUrbanite: but maybe i would've been paying attention  
ubiquitousUrbanite: and two or three of my friends would not be fucking DEAD  
ubiquitousUrbanite: and I would know where my mother was   
ubiquitousUrbanite: and I would've got a fucking gun or a knife or anything but these motherfucking PENS  
ubiquitousUrbanite: and I wouldn't know that YOU knew there was a fucking METEOR coming for ME AND EVERYONE I LOVE  
ubiquitousUrbanite: and didn't think that was worth MOTHER FUCKING MENTIONING  
ubiquitousUrbanite: AT ANY FUCKING POINT  
ubiquitousUrbanite: BECAUSE WHAT THE FUCK DO MY OTHER FRIENDS MATTER??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MATTE THAT I HEARD THEM DIE  
ubiquitousUrbanite: THEY'RE NOT MAGIC DREAM FAIRIES ON THE MOONS OF WHEREVER THE BUMFUCK  
ubiquitousUrbanite: SO WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT THEM?!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: WHAT IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!

The laptop skidded away across the floor; she'd smacked it, thrown it away from her, as she ducked her head into her knees, gasping for the breath to sob.

_I don't have the time for this!_ \-- but she couldn't stop, her lungs wouldn't obey her. She was crying, crying hard, for the first time in years, and she couldn't stop herself, no matter what she tried. 

She curled up tighter-- _they can see you! Fucking stop it!_ \-- and tried to force her lungs to still, tried to keep herself from shaking. It wouldn't stop. None of it would ever stop and fuck, now she was moaning. She could not fall apart right now!

_They're dead and they're all dead because I didn't fucking hop the fuck up yelling "YES HARLEY I BELIEVE IN FAERIES IS THE SKY GREEN IS THE GRASS RED WELL IF YOU SAY SO SIR"--_

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her knees-- she'd been their leader, she was supposed to be the one who knew everything, and it hadn't worked, it hadn't been enough, she hadn't done it right, she hadn't known enough, hadn't tried hard enough, and then the pop fucking quiz had come in the form of rocks from fucking space.

She'd thought her ex-marine History teacher had been a bitch.

She was laughing, now, which ought to be an improvement, except the crying hadn't stopped at all, and it didn't feel any better in the slightest. There wasn't any making this better, and all she was doing was wasting her fucking time. Stupid! When she was trying her very best not to fuck this up. 

Maybe it was too late. Maybe she had already.

Fuck all of this.

She stood up; she still couldn't see very clearly, her vision blurred with tears, but there were jet-black shapes moving around on the other side of the wall. Some of them were the giant ones. She hadn't tried killing any of those yet.

She was in a reckless, murderous mood. Why waste it?

She threw her hands down, forcing her fists open, and there, there were the fucking pens; she had the trick of it now. 

Yeah, that was the trick of it: it was fucking magic. She lunged for the neck of the nearest giant, higher than she ought to be able to jump, and she landed like an Olympic athlete, pens landing unerringly in its eyes. It roared; she stuck another two pens into the joint of its throat. Was it a vital point? Did they have them? It didn't fucking matter.

Magic was real, was the trick of it. And magic always worked.

Except for when you needed it most.

The monster dropped. She lunged for the next.

Obligingly, they came.

\--


	5. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ultimateGrandmaster: what the fuck did you just do a triple axle off the handle there  
> ubiquitousUrbanite: Bullshit.  
> ubiquitousUrbanite: Quadruple, at least.

\--

Strider had built her two more floors-- enough to get up to the Gate, really-- and she'd cleared out the both of them, until there was nothing left to stab. Bitterly ironic, that a game like this should be damn near merciful with its encounters. 

She'd climbed back down for her laptop, pulling her SBurb client window firmly above Harley's flashing IM screen, and now she was perched on top of the precarious tower that used to be her home, staring out at the inky void, at the faintly pulsing flow of her gate. Pink. Why in the fuck was it pink?

ultimateGrandmaster: lalonde  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Yes?  
ultimateGrandmaster: there you are jesus  
ultimateGrandmaster: what the fuck did you just do a triple axle off the handle there  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Bullshit.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Quadruple, at least.  
ultimateGrandmaster: septuple?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Octuple, even.  
ultimateGrandmaster: well be careful of the tentacles there lady have you seen the internet  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Indeed I have.

She leaned back, taking a deep breath. There was something oddly calming about it, about having a conversation about everything but the elephants in the room.

ubiquitousUrbanite: And how would you be doing?  
ultimateGrandmaster: not bad  
ultimateGrandmaster: shit is inconceivably fucked up but its surprisingly all right  
ultimateGrandmaster: and if you make the princess bride joke i swear to celestia

Celestia, eh? The habit of filing such tidbits away in her mind for future reference was laughably pointless now, but she indulged in it anyway, because it felt familiar. Though it would've been surprising if he hadn't been acquainted with the world of bronies to some depth or another.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Wouldn't dream of it.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Get in all right?  
ultimateGrandmaster: course do i look like a pancake  
ultimateGrandmaster: place is fucked up and there's bitches with shades on my 6  
ultimateGrandmaster: but fuck it  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Shades?  
ultimateGrandmaster: yeah something with the kernelsprite things idkwtfbbq  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Him too, huh.  
ultimateGrandmaster: shades?  
ultimateGrandmaster: course he is just about the coolest motherfucka ever to have cooled  
ultimateGrandmaster: he's pretty chill about the whole glowy red resurrection bullshit even  
ultimateGrandmaster: do you get more chill at this latitude  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I suspect that one does not.  
ultimateGrandmaster: so it's going okay  
ultimateGrandmaster: and you

She sighed again; she didn't particularly want to investigate her current state too closely. Like a lategame Jenga tower, she feared the wrong breath might send it clattering apart. 

ubiquitousUrbanite: Not bad.  
ultimateGrandmaster: the kid is freaking you know  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'm not talking about Harley.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I cannot talk about  
ubiquitousUrbanite: that.  
ultimateGrandmaster: yeah lady understandable  
ultimateGrandmaster: i'm slightly perturbed myself tbh  
ultimateGrandmaster: sure the only one i know who got flattened was my asshole landlord but a heads-up would've been pretty sweet  
ultimateGrandmaster: does it help to know i don't think the thought even started to flutter across his brain  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I don't want to talk about it  
ultimateGrandmaster: okay

She could picture it, though. She could picture him having just that lapse of critical thinking skills, even as her hands started to shake again in frustration and rage. She didn't want to understand it. It didn't help.

She didn't want to understand it, but she could.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Tell him I said I forgive him or something.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Even you can come up with something that will sound all right.  
ultimateGrandmaster: is it true  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'm incredibly the fuck pissed off at him right now but it kind of is.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Or will be.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: But there is no fucking way I can tell him that.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Or speak to him.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: For.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: A while.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: So pass it on.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Okay, Rich?  
ultimateGrandmaster: omfg he's fucking calling me that isn't he  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Yes, Rich.  
ultimateGrandmaster: look lady please for the love of christ don't call me that it makes me feel like ronald reagan  
ultimateGrandmaster: or the jock in a teenage horror movie and you know how those tools end up  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Then why is he calling you Rich, Dick?  
ultimateGrandmaster: look he asked me for my name okay  
ultimateGrandmaster: and i panicked  
ubiquitousUrbanite: ...  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I fail to see how that situation merits panic.  
ultimateGrandmaster: i don't know if i do either  
ultimateGrandmaster: but he was being all chummy and shit okay  
ultimateGrandmaster: and he asked for my name and in a moment of weakness and panic and i don't even fucking know i seem to have told him  
ultimateGrandmaster: but please for the love of christ don't use it  
ultimateGrandmaster: i hate it and i haven't figured out how to get that through to him yet and him flipping out isn't helping  
ultimateGrandmaster: so have some mercy okay  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Okay, Strider.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Mercy is good.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Mercy is in woefully short supply.

She rubbed at her eyes, and stared for a moment into the darkness. 

She could probably just stay here. It would be quiet, and it would be safe.

For a while.

She looked at Jane's screen, ignoring the persistently flickering IM icon on her taskbar; she was talking to something, frying pan in her hand but held casually, brushing the ground. How about that. She'd found something in this game that didn't want to kill her.

_Tick, tock._

She leaned forward; her muscles were aching, but she ignored them. 

ubiquitousUrbanite: I'd best be moving up.  
ultimateGrandmaster: yeah i think you ground out a couple levels there  
ultimateGrandmaster: what the fuck is an echeladder  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Fucked if I know.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Fucked if I don't.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: We're generally pretty fucked.  
ultimateGrandmaster: and not even in the fun way doesn't it figure  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Life is a sexually transmitted disease...

She sighed, and sat up straighter, steeling herself. She was still pretty pissed off. She could handle a new level just fine.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Off I go.  
ultimateGrandmaster: k i have to go make like a third world dictator  
ultimateGrandmaster: gl lady  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Good luck to you, too.

She closed her laptop, and stood, staring down the gate like it was another enemy. It probably was, in this game.

Well, then she'd beat it. She'd beat down every motherfucker in this game. Anything. Everything.

She was going to win. She was going to see everyone safely home.

And then, someone was going to _burn_ for this.

She took a running start, leaped impossibly high, and vanished.

\--


	6. Monsters

\--

ultimateGrandmaster: lady  
ultimateGrandmaster: lalonde  
ultimateGrandmaster: laloooonde

Elizabeth wiped her brow; her stupid arm was shaking again. She wished she had some sort of hands-free display for this phone-- she wanted to ignore it, but its buzz induced a Pavlovian response in her, particularly today. 

ultimateGrandmaster: lalonde for fuck's sake  
ultimateGrandmaster: okay that's it i am bringing in the big guns  
ultimateGrandmaster: the bazookas as it were

She let out an annoyed breath; god, he was impatient. She just had one more creature to take down before the zone was clear...

gourmetUtopian: lizzie!  
gourmetUtopian: liiiiiizzziiiiiiiiiiiiie

She nearly tripped over her own feet.

ubiquitousUrbanite: This?   
ubiquitousUrbanite: This is what you mean by the big guns?  
ultimateGrandmaster: well the chick swings a cast-iron skillet so i can only assume  
ultimateGrandmaster: as to bazookas yeah i admit that's just an educated guess  
ubiquitousUrbanite: STRIDER!

Regrettably, she could not kill him from here. Figured that this game would be arbitrarily _selective_ in its encouragement of wanton murder.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Hello.  
gourmetUtopian: oh, there you are!  
gourmetUtopian: strider said you were out of touch and I was worried!  
gourmetUtopian: oh, wait, should I be calling him rich now?   
ubiquitousUrbanite: No.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: It's complicated.  
gourmetUtopian: but jake...  
gourmetUtopian: oh well, i'll just wait until he tells me!  
gourmetUtopian: as long as he doesn't mind strider.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I rather think he prefers it.  
gourmetUtopian: but...  
gourmetUtopian: oh to hell with figuring out inscrutable boys!  
gourmetUtopian: how are you??  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'm fine.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Following my own advice. Killing ths shit out of things.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: *the  
gourmetUtopian: well.  
gourmetUtopian: i suppose that's all right!  
gourmetUtopian: ...as long as it's the enemies right?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Naturally.  
gourmetUtopian: you know in my world i found some cute lizards who were very nice!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Just giant black scowling things. No lizards.  
gourmetUtopian: okay then!  
gourmetUtopian: anyway it is good to explore :B  
gourmetUtopian: it is kind of fun if you forget...  
gourmetUtopian: the past ten hours!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Is that how long it's been?

It was a surprise, somehow, though she wasn't sure if it felt shorter or longer. Time itself almost seemed different, now, all her usual points of reference gone. 

gourmetUtopian: yes it is!  
gourmetUtopian: and it has been a long day too.  
gourmetUtopian: i am actually scouting out a place for a nice nap.  
gourmetUtopian: you should think about it too!  
gourmetUtopian: apparently we can maybe wake up where we're asleep if we try now?  
gourmetUtopian: it's no guarantee but i think we should give it a try!  
gourmetUtopian: i haven't gotten to meet any of you in person yet and it would be quite the treat. :B  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'll think about it.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I just have to finish clearing out this area first.  
gourmetUtopian: okay!  
gourmetUtopian: but think about it all right?  
gourmetUtopian: don't wear yourself out!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: All right.  
gourmetUtopian: see you soon! :D

She looked away; just two more. Two more, and the area would be cleared. Would it stay cleared? She wasn't sure. Clearly, she had to find out. 

One. Take the big one first. There was one of its fists; twist away, launch into the air, ignore the ache in her side. Be quietly grateful for five years of childhood gymnastics. Sink pens into eyes. Drop behind monster. Prepare two more pens. Hear the whump, the clap of air as the creature disappeared. Run through grist. Lunge at the smaller imp. Sink pens through its carapace. Twist away. Gather grist. Turn toward the next one.

There wasn't a next one. 

What was she supposed to do when there wasn't a next one?

She'd honestly forgotten. She couldn't possibly have forgotten. She just had to think. Everyone knew what to do when there _weren't_ monsters to fight.

She couldn't remember.

She sat down, staring at the horizon, like another monster would appear there if she just waited long enough. In this game, it really probably would. All she had to do was wait.

That was all. Wait.

\--


	7. Nocturne

\--

There were voices.

They were familiar. She'd never heard them before. They were singing.

Her eyes were still closed. It was such a nice feeling, so long since she'd let them shut. So long since she'd ever had them open.

The bed was soft, she was buried in blankets, and she didn't want to fight it. She wanted to stay here, stay asleep, and never move-- just drift back off into nothing.

Her eyes were opening anyway.

What were her stupid eyes doing, anyway? Tell them to stay shut and they started to open, try to open them and they always stayed shut. Contrary bastards. 

The room was purple. Her room wasn't purple at all. There was also a strange amount of pink. 

This was not her room. Why would she wake up in a place that wasn't her room?

She sat up, slowly, rubbing at her achy eyes. Christ, the whole place was purple, saturated with it; the bed was purple, and the walls were purple, and the furniture was purple; all strangely rococo, and the windows opened onto black.

She found herself walking toward the window. That was the city, the entirety of it; purple rococo towers against a black sky, a sky undotted by stars, a sky--

\--A sky something lurked behind, something with tentacles and eyes sharp enough to cut. Something out of Lovecraft, something out of Japanese woodcuts, something out of nightmare--

\--Ah. That was right. She must be dreaming.

She stepped out of the door, to a long purple corridor, dotted by black tables and darker-purple vases. There was a doorway at the end of the hall, and she saw stairs leading down.

She followed them, the long endless tight curve of them, and she wondered if that had been a mistake, if in dreams stairs lasted forever. It had started to feel timeless, certainly, by the time she reached the bottom, and a purple wooden door with a crude latch.

She opened it, and she was on the streets. People were passing by, garbed in purple and gold and green, with perfectly round heads and gangly limbs and the most ridiculous variety of hats. They were black, too, blacker than graphite, dark as obsidian, and she thought about the edges of glass and how they could cut.

They seemed to draw back from her, and she wondered if she should draw back as well; she wobbled over the wall on a narrow bridge, and cursed, rubbing her calf, before she realized she hadn't fallen. She was floating, just above the ground; and she laughed at herself, for walking in a dream. 

The city was just as purple from above; the tower she had come from was one of the tallest things in it. She flew further up, and further; and there was another tower, just like hers. 

There were windows near the top, temptingly open. She drifted near one; and there in a messy, improbably Earth-like room was Strider, asleep in the bed. She was surprised for a moment. But Harley had said something about this.

Harley had said a lot of things.

She was already through the window before she realized that might be rude; her thoughts seemed sluggish, she'd never been a lucid dreamer. She hadn't woken him up, though, and neither did the sudden, strange noise from below. 

Like splintering wood, she thought, moving to his door, drifting down the hallway, mirror to the one she'd just left. That was significant. She knew why it was significant. It just wouldn't come clear in her head, even as she made her way to the end of the hall, opening the top door, looking down the spiral stairs.

Someone was coming. She could see their hand on the railing, odd clicks with every step. 

She could see the black sword they were holding in that hand.

She closed the door again, dragged the hall table against it, flowers and all. It wouldn't hold; it was decorative as hell. There weren't any others. 

She went back to Strider's room, to his side. "Strider," she said.

He didn't wake. She shook his shoulder. "Strider!"

He didn't wake. The footsteps were getting louder. "Strider, don't make me drag you out of this bed."

He didn't wake. She slung his arm awkwardly over her shoulder, wishing she'd gotten the vase from the hall, perhaps water would work where nothing else would-- and she heard the vase crashing, the splintering of the table and door, and she realized there was nowhere else to go from here.

He didn't wake. She'd never carried anyone before; she tripped on her way to the window. It was a dream. They could leave the way she came.

The last door crashed open. He didn't wake.

She looked at the person in the doorway. His dress looked frilled and belled like a doll's and his fanged mouth was twisted in a snarl. His sword was raised, and he was coming, and she pushed Strider onto the windowsill, knowing she couldn't pull him from out there. 

Hard fingers wrapped around her wrist. She looked up into eyes with the viciousness of an animal, the strict adherence to program of a robot; and she knew she was out of time.

Strider didn't wake. She pushed him out the window anyway.

This was a dream, she reminded herself, as her other arm was caught, as her hips rammed into the windowsill; but she still screamed for Strider when a hand fisted through her hair, and a sword--

\--and she woke up, screaming, in the middle of an empty plain.

She felt her throat; the skin was unmarked and smooth. Her heart was thumping loudly in her ears. Her planet was just as she had left it.

And her laptop was chiming.

\--


	8. Disconnection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ultimateGrandmaster: idk if you'd be more beatrix kiddo or ophelia but lalonde, we cannot find out, you hear

\--

The message-windows were flickering like Christmas lights, staccato pulses of gold. Her hand was still shaking; she was aiming for Jane's, but hit Strider's instead.

ultimateGrandmaster: hey did you finally pass out  
ultimateGrandmaster: thank fuck   
ultimateGrandmaster: you were gonna either drop dead or flip your shit  
ultimateGrandmaster: idk if you'd be more beatrix kiddo or ophelia but lalonde, we cannot find out, you hear  
ultimateGrandmaster: this is knowledge that is not meant for man  
ultimateGrandmaster: these are things we can never find out  
ultimateGrandmaster: lovecraftian secrets or whatever: you can go after that knowledge but you can't get it without being fucked  
ultimateGrandmaster: you're fucked if you find out  
ultimateGrandmaster: you only find out by virtue of being completely fucked  
ultimateGrandmaster: lalonde you have to hang on  
ultimateGrandmaster: which ironically means you have to give yourself less shit about hanging on  
ultimateGrandmaster: i mean you have to cut yourself a little bit of slack don't you  
ultimateGrandmaster: even now, it can't have to be perfection  
ultimateGrandmaster: it can't be required  
ultimateGrandmaster: right?  
ultimateGrandmaster: anyway clearly i'm near the edge myself but i just wanted to say  
ultimateGrandmaster: except for all the mortal peril there is no one i would rather be here with than you guys  
ultimateGrandmaster: because ain't no one with a better chance to win this shit  
ultimateGrandmaster: not in this universe  
ultimateGrandmaster: so take care of yourself lalonde  
ultimateGrandmaster: anyway i shoul'

And there it ended, sending a jolt of adrenaline up her spine.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: That is not goddamn funny.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider?

Maybe he was busy, at the moment. Busy with something important.

ubiquitousUrbanite: Strider, you get back to me the SECOND you get this, or I swear to god Beatrix Kiddo will look like Betty Crocker compared to the shit I will wreck.

Harley was his server player; he might know what was happening.

garrulousGamesman: and im sorry.  
garrulousGamesman: i mean, adventure!  
garrulousGamesman: adventure and destiny and fun things.  
garrulousGamesman: i guess i just wasnt thinking.  
garrulousGamesman: you have other people and friends and parents and the like!  
garrulousGamesman: i dont.  
garrulousGamesman: never have, really.  
garrulousGamesman: i shouldve thought of it but i just didnt!  
garrulousGamesman: so its all just a grand old time and meeting my best chums to me.  
garrulousGamesman: i think i still dont understand.   
garrulousGamesman: possibly i cant quite?  
garrulousGamesman: it might be altogether beyond me.  
garrulousGamesman: but i am dreadfully horrifically sorry for hurting you.  
garrulousGamesman: i can make it right though!  
garrulousGamesman: ill grant you i do not yet know exactly how.  
garrulousGamesman: but i will!  
garrulousGamesman: whatever it takes.  
garrulousGamesman: however long it takes.  
garrulousGamesman: ill do it.  
garrulousGamesman: it will all work out in the end!  
garrulousGamesman: we just have to get there first.  
garrulousGamesman: so lets do it!  
garrulousGamesman: tally-ho!

Elizabeth laughed softly, wondering who the fuck even said tally-ho. She was torn. On the one hand, that apology seemed-- horribly insufficient. And on the other... it was honest, and possibly, possibly, understandable.

Not to mention, with only three other people left in her world-- maybe the world entire, though she hoped that was an exaggeration-- she could hardly afford to casually throw them away.

She could ask him about Strider; but Jane's message-box was blinking, and Jane still had her first loyalty.

gourmetUtopian: mygodohmygodohmygod  
gourmetUtopian: liz you have to help me!!  
gourmetUtopian: i don't understand how this camera works an i can't fine him!

She sat bolt upright; the timestamps weren't more than a couple minutes ago. In fact, a new line popped on the screen as she watched.

gourmetUtopian: lizzieeee!!!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: What's going on?!  
gourmetUtopian: i don't know! D:  
gourmetUtopian: i don't know and i can't figure out how to find out!  
gourmetUtopian: he was supposed to just be fighting imps.  
gourmetUtopian: he said it was okay if i took a nap!  
gourmetUtopian: so i did and now i can't find him anywhere!!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Harley?  
gourmetUtopian: yes!!  
gourmetUtopian: i mean he got in the game okay!  
gourmetUtopian: and if i fought off the buggers surely he could!!  
gourmetUtopian: so he shouldn't have been in any danger yet!!  
gourmetUtopian: but i can't find him anywhere!!  
gourmetUtopian: ad this stupid camera won't move liz how do you move the camera??  
gourmetUtopian: strider isn't answering liz liz how do i move the camera??

She swallowed hard, nervously glancing at her own controls to remind herself.

ubiquitousUrbanite: WASD, or click and drag, or use the arrows.  
gourmetUtopian: that isn't working though!!  
gourmetUtopian: i keep looking and looking but i can't find him anywhere and it won't let me look far enough!!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I think it centers on the player?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: So he should be there.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You've checked the center?  
gourmetUtopian: yes!!  
gourmetUtopian: about a dozen times, let me look again.  
gourmetUtopian: i don't even know where this is, it isn't where i left him!!  
gourmetUtopian: maybe it glitched out??  
gourmetUtopian: maybe their beta testers sucked.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Jane.  
gourmetUtopian: maybe they didn't even have a beta i mean how could you??  
gourmetUtopian: i mean the meteors would have been reported!!  
gourmetUtopian: unless they did it on like a whole other planet and there aren't other planets!!  
gourmetUtopian: ...the idiot said while standing on another planet!!  
gourmetUtopian: fuck.  
gourmetUtopian: fuckfuckfuck  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Jane!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: We'll find him!  
gourmetUtopian: but where could he be??  
gourmetUtopian: where could he have gone??  
gourmetUtopian: what if it's a glitch and he's in some awful glitch world and he's lost??  
gourmetUtopian: what if something took him??  
gourmetUtopian: why wasn't i awake to watch him?!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You had to sleep! Just like I had to.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Or you might have fallen asleep in front of your laptop!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Or misclicked and made things worse.  
gourmetUtopian: but he is my responsibility!!  
gourmetUtopian: oh god is this why you were so crazy about making me kill everything?  
gourmetUtopian: i'm sorry, i understand now.  
gourmetUtopian: i didn't get it, but now i do.  
gourmetUtopian: i should've been more like you :(

Elizabeth looked at the Sburb window; Jane was running her hands through her hair, mussed and messed and curling, rocking slightly in front of her laptop, tears running down her face. She felt a vague sense of premonition, but she wasn't sure what of. It made her calmer, even as it set something deeper inside her on-edge, but she wasn't at all sure it was a good thing.

ubiquitousUrbanite: No.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You're you, and you shouldn't ever stop that. Do you hear me?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Keep being you, because we need you.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Keep looking, because we'll all keep looking.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: We're going to keep going, and we're going to find him.  
gourmetUtopian: what if we can't D:  
ubiquitousUrbanite: There will be a way.   
ubiquitousUrbanite: Even in this game, there will be a way.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Aren't there always extra lives in video games?  
gourmetUtopian: i guess, but this game isn't fair!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: We'll win anyway.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Whatever it takes, we're going to win anyway.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: So let's get moving.  
gourmetUtopian: i need to keep looking for him!  
ubiquitousUrbanite: You can.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: But then get moving, okay?  
ubiquitousUrbanite: Because if he's in trouble, we need to level up as fast as we can to bail him out of it.  
gourmetUtopian: i...  
gourmetUtopian: yes!  
gourmetUtopian: yes.  
gourmetUtopian: ten more minutes.  
ubiquitousUrbanite: I'll hold you to that.  
gourmetUtopian: i know you will :)  
gourmetUtopian: because you really are the best friend :B

She flinched away, tears welling in her eyes, but she wouldn't cry. This game wasn't fair, but they were stuck in it; and if she had to break it in half, she would see them out of it safely.

She noticed another messenger window flashing, and clicked it, mistaking it for Strider's-- but it was blank, and empty.

_Glitches,_ she thought, frowning, and closed it.

Maybe the game was already breaking. Good. That would make things a lot easier.

\--


End file.
